


Thaumaturge

by nighttjar



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alchemy, Alchemy is the newest weapon of Mordor, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Amestrians are Men of Mordor, Assassination, Brotherly Affection, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Edward Elric Swears, Espionage, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Manipulation, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Sabotage, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttjar/pseuds/nighttjar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the lands of Middle Earth are threatened by the growing power of Sauron, a Fellowship must be formed to destroy his source of power, The One Ring once and for all. A young alchemist from Mordor will be forced to join them on their journey, as they will go through friendship, moments of joy, but also failure and despair. (Will include most or all characters from both universes).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Man of Mordor

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> The Lord of The Rings, books: written by J.R.R. Tolkien and published by George Allen & Unwin (UK) in 1954.  
> Fullmetal Alchemist, manga: written by Hiromu Arakawa and published by Enix (2001-2003) en Square Enix (2003-2010), in Monthly Shōnen Gangan.
> 
> I am not even slightly familiar with the usage of Sindarin or Black Speech, so forgive me when you spot mistakes (and please correct me). For the sake of making sentences in Black Speech, I mixed it with the language of the Orcs. For clarification's sake: unless when Orcs are speaking, or when others speak to Orcs, (pretend that) the language spoken is solely Black Speech. At the end of the chapters I give a list of a _very_ rough translations with the general meaning I intended. I am not a native English speaker and this work isn't bèta'ed. Please inform me of any mistakes spotted.  
> 

It was late in the evening as the young man leaned forward to the edge of the path, minding not to fall down the cliff. It was one of the only places in this over-elegant city of the fair folk that was, though still close by the centre, away from most important buildings, and not decorated with symbols and overgrown by plants. He held in his hand a cup filled with some Elven drink that was merrily pushed onto him. It seemed the Elves were insisted upon hospitality, even though he himself had specifically requested them not to.

"Damned Elves," he muttered into the cold air. He shivered.

"Master Elric, such language is most definitely unnecessary." It was Elrond, Master of Rivendell, who spoke sternly but a shimmer amusement was easily detected by those who knew him. Edward Elric huffed, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Half-Elf, but otherwise ignored the man. Elrond, as well, spoke no more, and stood still, joining the young alchemist in the early night, watching the sky as the stars became brighter and brighter.

"We have a story," said the elder, after a timespan of at least twenty minutes of utter silence, "speaking of a wise man, loved by all, who made a decision he thought to be just, but resulted in nothing but his trust being broken and being abandoned by his most beloved and lord."

"I know it," said Edward. "But was his choice the right one, or did he regret it after realizing what it had cost him?"

"He might or mightn't. We know not."

The golden-haired alchemist sighed, feeling irritated by Elrond's answer. "I would ask why you brought it up, but it has either got to do with tomorrow's meeting or you won't give a straight answer to begin with. Both are useless, so I won't ask."

Elrond did not respond.

"Why are they so late, anyway," Edward continued. "Those Dwarves are already here."

"Do not be so impatient, Master Elric."

"Yeah, yeah. It is not like this is important and highly dangerous or similar."

"Could it be, you're worried?"

"Am not," Edward hissed, as if the thought alone was offensive to him. "I just want to go back. Soon."

Again, the duo stood in silence. Edward excused himself and left for his guest-room. A small, hurrying creature ran into him, so Edward instinctively kicked whatever it was that had seemingly attacked.

"Ow!" came a cry, but no counter was initiated. "How terribly rude, mister. I do most certainly apologize for barging into you like that, but attempting to harm me goes a bit far, do you not agree?"

"Oh," said Edward. "You're a hobbit."

The figure massaged his legs for a bit, before standing up straight, looking the young alchemist straight into his eyes. Much to Edward's delight, the hobbit was (naturally) shorter than him.

"Sorry," he said. "Reflexes kicked in. Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, I am fine. Do not worry about it, mister. I must be more careful around here."

Edward shrugged. He himself had bumped into more than one Elf since his arrival in Rivendell, Edward was not annoyed enough to blame the hobbit too much. He had already kicked him, so he had had his revenge. "Why were you running around, anyway?" Because the alchemist may have not been angry, curious he was always.

"Oh, you see. Ah. I am not sure if I may speak about this, Master…?"

"Elric. Edward Elric. Ed's fine, though. You?"

"Master Elric, then. The name's Samwise Gamgee. About the matter at hand, I am uncertain whether or not I should speak about it."

Edward rolled his eyes and grunted. "You must be a friend of Gandalf's, all right."

"Pardon me?"

"Both of you are damned secretive."

Sam was taken aback by the harsh tone and didn't reply. Edward continued. "You are with the injured hobbit," he stated. "I know about it, so I guess it'll be fine if you speak."

"Right," said Sam, looking uncomfortable under the stare of the golden eyes of the boy. "Well, he woke up."

"He did, didn't he? I saw him at the banquet talking to the Dwarf. Good for you guys. I'm glad he's better."

"Yes, so are we."

And Edward believed him.

Sam looked more relieved than he had deemed physically possible. It was astonishing, really, the loyalty that radiated of Sam. It reminded Edward of Alphonse… and how he had left him behind in Resembool. He twitched.

"Master Elric?"

"Ed. Call me Ed. Let me at least convince you to do so."

Samwise Gamgee didn't really seem to like it, but his desire to be kind and open to anyone won over his ever-politeness. "Very well… Ed."

Edward threw his fist in the air in excitement and made a jump. Sam was at first surprised and then got a look of shock on his face. "May I ask your age?"  
"Huh?" Ed turned to look at him. "I'm fifteen, why?"

Sam gaped at him. "Oh no! No! I judged you way over that!"

"You did?" Ed smiled, thinking it was because of his height that he appeared older. But that (obviously) was not it. Sam had had no idea what Edward was. His eyes and hair were much too bright for him to be a Man (even though poor Samwise Gamgee had not met too many people other than hobbits in his life, so who was he to know?), too short to be Elven and too tall to be a strange kind of hobbit. It would now seem, so thought Sam, that Edward was, after all, Man. (And that his height was below average). But for that man, who seemed so much wiser and more tormented than most people Sam had met, to be a mere child, was not even possible in the hobbit's wild imagination.

So, whilst Edward Elric was still beaming in whatever fantasy he was having at the moment, Samwise Gamgee shot a very brief look of sympathy at the boy, knowing that it wouldn't be seen by the other, in a silent sign of disfigured and awkward respect.

They quickly exchanged good-byes after that and left for their respectable rooms. The hobbit felt a warm feeling, down his back, and he knew it wouldn't be last time they met.

─────────

The next day it was way too early for the young man when he was woken by an amused Gandalf.

"Shut the curtains, old man... " the teen grumbled sleepily, as he tried to crawl right back under the sheets.

"Oh, no, no. We cannot be late, Ed. The meeting is already about to start." At that Edward shot right up out his bed, paused as he waited for the dizziness to cease, before rushing into the bathroom, all whilst completely ignoring the Wizard, while Gandalf merrily chatted about what a beautiful day it was and how energetic young teenagers surprisingly were when in a hurry. When Edward finally deemed himself decent enough to present himself to the court, he exited the bathroom, where he also had gotten dressed, and growled at the happy man.

"You should have woken me earlier, bastard."

Gandalf laughed. "But that would have spared me watching your moment of panic. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." Gandalf and Ed hadn't seen each other after being separated before, and the alchemist's mood turned sober.

Ed mumbled something under his breath. "I heard… about Saruman."

Gandalf's form turned grim. "Yes. His heart was darkened by the forces of Mordor."

Edward knew of Saruman, the White Wizard, his past and felt personally betrayed when he heard how he had turned against them. The alchemist had never met the Wizard, but loved the grand stories and legends of the powerful and once honourable man.

"Skraefa, bolvag rraus ungol..." he hissed in anger.

Gandalf became filled with anger and worry. "Be quiet, have we not drawn enough attention."

Ed huffed, realizing his mistake. "You worry too much. Rivendell is far from falling."

"We cannot be careless."

"Tch, fine."

Gandalf calmed down and held out his arm. Ed gave it a shove.

"Let us go." The Wizard spoke.

The alchemist groaned. "Meetings are only fun for old men like you."

─────────

In the large circle, Men gathered amongst Dwarves, alongside the Elves, accompanied by a group of hobbits. They all turned to look at the two newly arrived figures, some whispering about Ed's appearance. Luckily for them, none had yet to mention his height. Glóin, son of Gróin stood, his mighty axe at his front. The elder Dwarf had seen much in his life. He had journeyed to the Lonely Mountains, fought bravely and reclaimed their homeland. Beside the legend of a man sat Gimli, his prideful son.  


"We are worried," the man spoke with powerful tone. "Yes, I can say we are."

Soft mumbles were exchanged amongst the Men, but they were quickly silenced by a look of Elrond's. Edward, who sat between the Wizard and Men leaned forward, resting his head on his palm, his elbows on his knees in interest.

The Dwarf continued. "Balin, our trusted friend, an honourable man, left months ago to re-establish our kingdom in the Mines of Moria. It is sad that we have yet heard news from them. However, we seem to have found our reason." The last of the whispers toned down. "A messenger from Mordor came to our halls!"

Once again those who were present started talking, but this time not only the Men. Not excited mumbles, or questioning ones, these voices were angry and worried. Edward glanced sideways to Strider and noticed little to no reaction. As expected of the man.

But he wasn't the only one who remained silent. Elrond had not moved, Gandalf had not even bothered to listen, it seemed. They probably had already known. They should have told him as well, thought the alchemist, even though he knew he had had no right to be informed about matters like that in the first place, before Glóin himself would have made the announcement, of course.

To distract himself, Ed looked at the hobbits and snorted. The group looked like lost children, thrown into a company of businessmen.

"The messenger had a strange tale to tell. He offered the Dwarves an alliances, even new Rings of Power, all if we were able to give them information about a certain hobbit."  
Now everyone turned to look, not just Edward. The Halflings looked extremely uncomfortable under the stares, but did not avert their gazes. Elrond raised his hand, everyone immediately calming down at the stern looks the Elves gave them. 

The Master of Rivendell explained to those present about the Rings, forced by the Elves, about how Sauron was able to create the One Ring, made to rule all others. Elrond told the story of the mighty battle where the Man Isildur cut the Ring for the Lord of the Earth.  
He turned grim, being reminded how the Man had not destroyed the Ring there and then when he had had the change. How he regretted not having launched himself at the man, forcefully taken the Ring from him.

But Elrond, too, had feared its power and had naïvely hoped that it would not turn for the worst. He continued after his moment of silence to explain the loss of the Ring in the Anduin River, where Isildur perished. When he talked about the Men of Gondor, a warrior of Man stood up and Elrond allowed him to speak.  
The man, Boromir, spoke with a loud, deep and clear voice. Edward was taken aback by the confidence and authority his aura seemed to give off.

"Our people in Minas Tirith, great city of Gondor, have noticed as well the change from Mordor. They have begun to expand, causing loss after loss for our men. This gathering will bring hope, I've seen the signs. Lately, dreams have been plaguing my mind. Dreams of the Sword that was Broken, Isildur's Bane," he nodded to Elrond, who he knew to be in the possession of the sword, then turned his head sharply at the hobbits, "and a Halfling."  
Strider stepped forward, Boromir politely silenced himself and sat back down.

"I may help you, leader of Man. For I might be able to explain your dreams."

He stood straight. "My friends, I have not been honest with you all. Most of you know me as Strider, but it is far from who I am. I am Aragorn, heir and direct descendant of Isildur, keeper of Elendil's broken sword. The Halfling you dream of stands right there, Frodo Baggins, barer of Isildur's Bane: the One Ring of Sauron himself."  
When the hobbit heard his name being called, he walked forward. He stretched out his arm and let an object fall onto the plateau.

"The One Ring..." breathed Boromir. A dead-like silence fell down on the meeting.  
Bilbo spoke, as Frodo returned to his group. He told everyone present about how he found the Ring of Power in a cave, in the possession of a creature called Gollum, and took it with him on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. He spoke of the power it gave him, and it made Edward uncomfortable. He had spent close to none time with hobbits, but he noticed a glim of desire in the man's eyes, and it freaked the alchemist out. Frodo seemed to have noticed it as well, but other than him and Gandalf, no one but Edward seemed to have seen it. Or they had chosen to ignore it, for whatever reason.  
Boromir had a silent exchange with Strider, known as Aragorn from now on, which was completely missed by Ed. They had agreed to something and decided to let the case - whatever it was - rest, for now.

After Bilbo was done, Frodo told his story, which was considerably shorter. Gandalf then began about the Ring in general, and how he had proven it to be the real one. He had thrown it in the fire, which had made text appear on it.  
Edward closed his eyes as he spoke: "Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."  
Gandalf looked at him and nodded shortly, even though Ed wouldn't have been able to see it.

He opened his eyes again. "Roughly translated it means: "One Ring to rule them all, One ring to find them; One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."  
Elrond nodded. "I believe an introduction is in order," he spoke, as he looked towards the alchemist.

"Sure, can't have paranoid Dwarves kill me now, can we?" Edward grinned towards Gimli, who had stiffened after hearing the Black Speech.

"My name is Edward Elric, I'm a Man born in the land of Mordor, ruled by the Lord of Earth, Sauron."

"And why are you here, Man of Darkness." An Elf from Mirkwood spoke, ever polite, considering the hostile air now residing amidst them.

"I'm here because the Wizard asked me to, and Elrond, as well. I, as is likely, know more than all of you about Mordor and its lord," Ed said, growing uncomfortable under the stares he was receiving. "I am also familiar with the growing advancement of science on their side."

"We are confident he can be trusted." Elrond continued. "His father and I have had a history, and Edward has helped Gandalf more than once in the past. Do not fear, we are amongst friends."

Aragorn turned towards the alchemist. "Could we have a talk later, Master Elric?"

Ed shrugged, a tad bit interested, but not enough for it to really grab his attention. "Fine by me. Call me Ed, though."

After that short exchange, Gandalf proceeded to tell his part. He told how he went to the order of Wizards and how Saruman the White had advised against acting upon the growing power of Sauron. When the Wizards finally had come around to fight against the dark forces of Mordor, Sauron had already fled away from Mirkwood back to Mordor. It was then that Gandalf decided to go and find the alchemist, to question the situation in the East.

"It had indeed changed," Ed said in his place. "There have been more brigades for the army than ever. Still low enough in number to go unnoticed, but large enough for us to know that the Lord was planning something."

Gandalf continued. He told the council how he had found Edward.

The Wizard did not, however, mention Alphonse Elric, the younger brother of the alchemist, or their mother.

"I have known the father of Edward Elric for many, many years." He did say, and that was enough, it seemed.

Edward huffed. The amount of trust they placed in that old man was astonishing.

"I decided to bring him with me, and searched for Gollum. This creature was the previous barer of the Ring and I needed to check whether or not he still had it. We failed, regrettably. After that, we went to the ancient catacombs of Minas Tirith, where we found a description of the Ring, written by Isildur himself. This confirmed what Edward was told as a child about the artefact."

Edward nodded once. "The One Ring is the most important symbol of the power of the Lord of the Earth. It was always described to us in detail."

Aragorn spoke up. "I would like to say that, where you unfortunately failed, I did succeed in finding the creature Gollum. But he soon disappeared after I had spotted him and I never saw him again after that."

"It must have been from him that Sauron learned of Bilbo and the Shire…" Gandalf said, thoughtfully.

Legolas, the Elven Prince from Mirkwood, stood up. "You are indeed correct to assume such, Gandalf the Grey. Gollum did escape our dungeon with the help of an army of Orcs."

Gandalf and Edward shared a look, but neither spoke.

Gandalf continued: "Nevertheless, after leaving Minas Tirith we travelled to Orthanc, the tower of Saruman. I had the feeling something was going to go wrong, and before we arrived I sent Edward to Gwaihir, the Great Eagle, to converse with them. As I had expected, the inevitable happened. We had been betrayed by one so terribly close to us as a friend, Saruman himself. I was overpowered and trapped in the great white tower, where I was tortured by the corrupted man, so that I would join him in his mad quest. It would surely have been my downfall, however, sending Edward away had been my salvation. This young man also began to suspect, and before leaving for Rivendell requested of the Eagles to come to my aid, which saved my life."

The old man turned to the alchemist. "Once again, accept my most sincere gratitude."

Edward blushed deeply from the sudden attention he had gotten, not only from Gandalf, but from everyone in the meeting. They all were very grateful for his actions, and their earlier suspicions began to falter, maybe a bit.

"O-of course, old man. Don't mention it."

The wizard chuckled.

"Still," Edward continued, losing most of his blush as he turned to the rest of those present with a serious expression. "The forces of Isengard will now be against us. Surely, the White Wizard will be able to perform remarkable deeds that will be able to strike us considerably. We must be warry."

Everyone got a grim expression, knowing just what would be in store for them.

Gandalf then finished his tale: "Gwaihir took me to the proud horsemen of Rohan. I met Shadowfax there, the swiftest of all horses, and he carried me all the way back to the Shire. I was too late, however, to meet with Aragorn and the Hobbits at Bree, so I took their route to Rivendell and came across the Weathertop. There, I was ambushed by the Nazgûl, where I battled them. I continued my journey to Rivendell, hoping to draw some of the Nine away from my friends. The rest, is known by you all."

A moment of silence was soon to be interrupted by the young alchemist, who grew tired at this point. "The past is the past, what we must decide now is the future. What will we do?"

Elrond nodded. "I would like to suggest giving the Ring to Tom Bombadil. I have reasons to be convinced that the artefact will have no power over him."

"That would be true," said Gandalf. "But we cannot do that. It would be him alone against the forces of Sauron. Tom Bombadil is great, but he will not be able to defeat all of the powers of the Dark Lord of Mordor. It would only postpone the inevitable."

Boromir responded. "Why can we not use the immense power it holds? We can utilise it to conquer Mordor and defeat Sauron once and for all."

"No," Elrond said. "The Ring is the essence of Sauron himself, it is irrevocably evil. All deeds with it as a means will turn evil, no matter the intention. Am I right, master Elric?"

Edward twitched once more from hearing the name. "Yes." He looked at Borormir directly. "It cannot be used by anyone but the Lord of the Earth."

Glóin, the great Dwarf, suggested that the Elves could use their Three Rings to fight back the power of Sauron, but Elrond again disagreed.

"The Rings will fail. The One Ring was created for the very purpose of controlling all those others."

Erestor shook his head. "It has become clear to me what it is you wish to do, but it is despair and folly to go into Mordor, just to look for the fire from whence the Ring came."

"Despair is only for those who have no hope, which we have. Despair is not a possibility," Gandalf spoke. "As for folly, you are right. But it may be our only chance. Sauron, though wise as he is, only things in measurements of power. The idea of us trying to destroy something as powerful as his creation and pass up its strength would not occur to him."

"Gandalf is right," Elrond said. "In this battle of wits, it will just as likely that the weak will win as much as the strong will. It is more than only once in a while that the weak make a tremendous change in the world while the Eyes of the great are elsewhere."

"Then obviously I will have to take the Ring to Mordor," the old Biblo said, sounding too cheerful for Edward's liking, and he was not one of only a few who caught on this time.

"No," said Gandalf simply.

A heavy silence fell down after that single word, everyone knowing just what it implied, but no one daring to say it out loud.

"Then," came the soft voice of Frodo Baggins. "It will be me, will it not?"

He took a small breath and turned to Elrond with a determined look in his eyes. "I will bare it… though I do not know the way."

Elrond looked the hobbit in his eyes for a while. "Yes," he then eventually said. "Yes it will be you. It will be a heavy burden, but it appears as though you are destined for it."

Frodo nodded solemnly.

Out of a dark corner, it seemed, Sam jumped up and ran to stand beside his master.

"I will go along with him," he demanded, sounding more sure of his case than the entire council was.

Edward recognized the hobbit as the one he had ran into. He remembered their conversation and Sam's dedication towards Frodo. He smiled, accepting this turn of events silently. Elrond as well accepted that Sam would join Frodo on the journey as well, and Frodo, whilst looking worried, gave a thankful smile to his gardener.

─────────

"Ed, could we speak now, perhaps?" It was Aragorn, who had his hand lightly on the alchemist's shoulder to stop the younger man to leave immediately after the council had ended.

"Ah, right," Edward said. "I'm sorry, it completely slipped my mind."

Aragorn had a short glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he nodded in understanding.

"Then, let us sit down somewhere private and comfortable."

Edward allowed himself to be guided by the mysterious man to, completely by accident, the exact same spot he and the Half-Elf Elrond usually meet. The quick thought of it being a twisted sign of fate entered Ed's mind, but he immediately pushed it away. He was not the superstitious type.

They sat down and let a short silence fall between them, to get accustomed to their surroundings and each other's presence. Aragorn looked at him.

"I must apologize for being like this, questioning you right after our meeting. Gandalf has taken away all my suspicious of you, he is not an easy man to fool."

"I appreciate that and all," Ed growled. "But Saruman did succeed in fooling us all, even Gandalf. I wouldn't let other's experiences influence my own thinking, if I were you. After all, you appear to be some big shot around here, you should start planning ahead if that is the case."

"It would seem, that you truly are not yet a man. Do not glare at me like that, you know it to be true. You speak of things I have long but thought of, and with an insolence befitting that of a farmer." Aragorn spoke harshly, but with the best intentions in mind. "I trust Gandalf."

Edward sighed. "Whatever. As for what you wished to talk about?"

"Both you and Gandalf speak of alchemy, an art you are a master in, I've heard."

Edward huffed. "It is in no way an art, Aragorn. It is a science."

The young teen stood up and raised his hand. Clapping them together, resulting a metallic sound echoing through the early evening. He lowered himself to the ground and touched the rough stone with his palms.

The blue light of the alchemistic reaction surprised Aragorn enough to reflectively move away from Edward.

The light disappeared and Edward stood straight once more. On the ground, a horrifying beast was formed from the rock with incredible details. Edward hummed approvingly.

Aragorn came closer and looked at the new decoration. He was very impressed, but was slightly worried that the Elves would not appreciate the new addition. "You created this with some kind of magic?"

"I told you, it's science. Not magic." Edward rolled his eyes.

Aragorn looked troubled. "What more can you create with it?"

The young alchemist got a passionate glim in his eyes, it made the lone Strider smile a bit, watching the enthusiasm of the boy.

"Anything," he answered. "No," he quickly added. "Not everything. The science is limited to the amount of knowledge the alchemist has on the material. Then there is the matter of equivalent exchange. You cannot create something of more value than that of the material you are about to transmute."

"When you say 'knowledge of the material' what is it you mean?"

"You have to know everything of it!" said Edward, like it was completely obvious. "How it is naturally formed, or artificially for that matter. The exact quantity of the elements that resides in the material, the structure of the atoms and its uses as well. Idem for the material you wish to create. You have to know just how much of it you will need, just how much you can bend it before it would break, and much more."

"And you understand all this? You can 'transmute' all material in the world."

"Yes, all non-living material that is." Edward's voice softened a bit.

"Not living tissue?" Aragorn asked.

Edward shook his head. "No," the alchemist said. "Never mind, now I'm just not being honest." He looked the man straight in the eyes.

"I can transmute living tissue, with extreme caution. Per example, an alchemist would be able to merge multiple animals into one. Theoretically, I can do it. Morally, though…"

Aragorn nearly sighed at that. "I am glad to hear. I'll be honest as well, I began to grow worried at the thought."

Edward didn't react, as if he were in his own world. "It's impossible, Aragorn. Don't transmute living tissue into something you cannot create. It will go wrong, horribly wrong. It's taboo for a reason."

"It's taboo in Mordor?" asked Aragorn, genuinely shocked there were in any way laws concerning morality or the higher motive.

Edward nearly chuckled, but considering the topic, he deemed it inappropriate. "Yes, that's just how bad the transmutation is. Not even us 'bad guys' what to mess with it."

Aragorn seemed slightly amused. "For once, I am glad our 'good guy' feels the same way our enemies do."

Edward shot him a grateful smile, but his eyes carried a pained sight.

Aragorn choose to not mention it, this time. But Strider, he would not forget this seemingly insignificant moment. "Are… all inhabitants able to use alchemy?"

Edward almost appeared offended. "No way. Those Orcs are too clumsy and impatient. They would not have the patient to study this subject long enough for them to understand. I never even wanted to try it, teach them, that is. They would completely rip all my books to shreds. I hate teaching in general, though."

"Would Elves be able to learn it?"

Edward shrugged. "Theoretically? Yes. But from what I know, Elves have this sense of disapproval towards changing the world from the way it was meant to be, some back in Mordor are like that too. If they got over that, however, they'd be able to. Though I reckon it's rather difficult for them to look at these things from the perspective of numbers and measurements only, instead of thought or philosophy. No, alchemy is a science of Man."

Edward shivered.

"What were you to the armies of Mordor?" came the immediate follow-up question of the Heir of Isildur.

The alchemist's eyes widened in surprise, temporarily shocked to an extend he had no idea what he would have to say. What kind of question was it anyway?

"Me?" Ed eventually spoke. "The armies of Mordor?"

"Yes. You. Sauron does not keep unnecessary weight in his country, in what way were you and your alchemy useful to him?"

Edward furrowed his brows. "How much I wish I could deny it, lying would get me back later, won't it?"

Without waiting for an answer Ed looked at the sky, that started to turn considerably darker by the minute. He moved his hair with his hand, his metal hand, still hidden by his glove.

"I am an alchemist, Aragorn. People like me get invited for the military the moment we are found. My work involves overseeing the scientific development and enhancements for the army."

"You got forced."

"I volunteered." Ed looked Aragorn straight in the eyes. "I wanted the position, make no mistake."

If Aragorn was disturbed, he did not show it. "Why?"

"An alchemist in the military gets rewarded many benefits. We are privy to the most advanced alchemical resources, including exclusive access to the best research materials as well as state-of-the-art government laboratories, and are given a sizeable research grant each year which we can put to any purpose we wish to. We also get an automatic military officer rank equivalent to that of a Major, along with all its authority and influences."

When Aragorn looked slightly confused, Edward added: "We have different ranks in our system, separately from the Orcs in our armies. We hold authority over them. Going over all ranks will be a bore, I can assure you. Not even I bothered to truly study it all."

The man closed his eyes and let out a bit of air for a long breath.

"You did it for the benefits? Truly just for that."

Edward rested his head against the old tree. "Yeah, just for the benefits."

Aragorn looked away. "I do not believe you. Men are arrogant and greedy by nature, but you do not seem like that. I do not know-"

"Then do not make any assumptions, Aragorn, or Strider, however you wish to be called now, anyway." Edward interrupted him, slightly angry. "I wanted what was in front of me, and I took it."

He made a fist with his metal hand.

The man looked disappointed by his reaction, but not convinced.

He apologized for his rudeness and excused himself before leaving.

Edward now looked at the dark sky. "Just you wait, little brother. I will fulfil my promise, no matter what or who comes in my way." He looked down, determination flickering in his eyes.

─────────

The following day, nothing much had changed in the city other than that the air around everyone felt heavier. Edward left his room late in the morning and went for a walk short walk, and said his goodbyes to some of the Elves be had begun to like. He quickly found Gandalf, calmly nursing his pipe as he blew out smoke in all kinds of curious shapes.

"You'll damage your lungs." The young man said as he approached the elderly man. Ed deemed it to be appropriate to immediately ruin the wizard's mood this early in the day. Of course, it was not meant to be.

"Hello there," Gandalf greeted, cheerful as ever. "I was about to come and get you. Elrond wishes to speak with you soon."

"Couldn't he get me himself?" Ed snickered at the thought of Elrond just being too lazy and saw him laying down in the middle of the road, just thinking about life.

"It would appear he is busy preparing for the upcoming journey, as was I, mind you. And so were you? It is why you are late, is it not?"

Edward nodded. "I packed all my stuff."

The alchemist was leaving.

Not for a foolish quest to destroy the One Ring, but back to his home in Mordor. He would probably be stationed back in Central, where he worked for a Colonel in charge there. Edward never meant to get involved in this war, he didn't have to. Sure, he did help this time, but only because he owed Gandalf. The alchemist would not risk being caught up in something like this, he had other things he worried about.

Though he did regret having to return to the Bastard.

"Hmm," said Gandalf, as he took another puff. "Elrond is where we held the meeting along with the Fellowship yesterday. Today, I will be joining you once more."

Ed waited for the old man to slowly stand up and walked with him.

"Fellowship?" he asked. "What kind of name is that?"

"It is the name of how we call those going on the journey to save our existence. They will follow Frodo and Samwise and help them reach mount Doom."

"Oh, really?" Ed said, truly not that interested.

Gandalf knew that, or guessed it somehow, and didn't respond. They continued walking in silence until they reached their destination.

During the walk, Edward began to feel anxious. He wanted to leave already. Alphonse had been waiting for far too long for his elder brother to return.

The alchemist had not told his brother where he would have been going with Gandalf, fearfull of the guards of Mordor who would not be able to force the knowlegde out of Alphonse's mind, but harm the younger alchemist whilst trying.

That was something Ed could not allow to happen.

After all, just like Ed himself, Alphonse wasn't the greatest liar.

Like this, the Orcs would not be alarmed by the suspicious behavior Alphonse would have been bound to show.

"Edward, thank you for coming."

Edward was shocked out of his trance and shrugged at Elrond's words when he finally noticed the Half-Elf, choosing not to respond.

No one beside the three of them were there yet and the Master of Rivendell looked tense for some reason. Ed felt the temperature on the place drop.

"I have sent out scouts to determine the movements of our Enemy, but I only have gotten disturbing reports in return so far." Elrond spoke as he unconciously got a bit closer to the two listeners. "I fear for the Fellowship's safety. Mordor seems prepared for potential movements of ours. I fear their weaponry skills have risen due to their new-found alchemists."

Edward nodded. "Probably. Their weapons are stronger without a doubt. I will leave my notes here on the research that we have done on new material. Perhaps you can even enhance mithril with Gandalf's help, if you Elves get over your fear of angering nature. In Mordor we have no access to it, I suggest you use it to your advantage. Of course, you must be wary of the alchemists themselves as well, their own strengths mustn't be underestimated. I have also left notes for that, do not worry."

Elrond looked troubled nonetheless. "I am afraid your notes alone will no longer suffice."

The alchemist caught on where the conversation was going and frowned.

"I understand your problems," he began. "I truly do, but I cannot help any further. We had agreed to this. My brother will be in grave danger and I must return before the higher officers realize that this is too long of a time to be on a simple research-trip."

Elrond bended before the young man. "I am not one to break my promises, but I ask you to do so. Please... Ed. The situation has changed. It is far more serious than we could have imagined at first. We need your expertise. Please, Ed. Go with the Fellowship."

Ed's eyes hardened. "No. We had a deal, Elrond, you too, Gandalf. I did my part."

"Your home will also be struck by this, Ed, we must all do our parts to save ourselves."

The alchemist turned to Gandalf in a sharp movement with his head.

"Only more reason for me to go back." Ed sighed. "Listen, I might talk my brother into joining you guys. We will both betray our friends, how about that then?"

Elrond shook his head. "It will too noticeable. Ed. We ask this of you due to the high need for it, we are truly sorry."

Ed once again looked at Elrond, the Half-Elf who he had begun to really respect. The alchemist saw the raw desperation behind the calm. He bowed his head and made fists.

"I'm sorry... I cannot leave my brother."

Gandalf and the Master of Rivendell shared a look, just before the former grabbed a hold of the young man and made sure he couldn't move.

Ed was too shocked to fight back at first.

What was going on?

Elrond spoke words that would forever seal the fate of the alchemist, as Ed's eyes widened in dread and despair. "Band, gwaedh buia."

Edward felt how the spell of the Half-Elf began to take effect on him, like needles piercing right through his skin, moving under the fragile barrier between his insides and the exterior environment. Like centipedes were crawling over his muscles, behind his eyes and inside his ears.

The alchemist trashed and screamed in both physical and mental agony, as the wizard held him down with a sorrowful look on his elderly face.

Elrond obviously looked horrified by his own actions, but for the sake of this world, for his people, for his daughter, he couldn't stop this and he continued to formulate the spell that would force Edward Elric to join the Fellowship, protect Frodo, the Ring-Barer, and make sure their mission succeeded. The spell took several minutes to finish and had cost Gandalf severe enough bruises and cuts from the metal arm and leg that he bound the young man to the ground with his own magic.

Ed was a mess after all the effects had taken their toll on him. He was crying as he understood what the spell meant, word for word.

"Leithio nin..." he cried out to Gandalf in pure despair, desperate enough to speak in the tongue of the Elves, so hated by the people of Mordor, to beg them for mercy. The wizard released the boy as he looked to the master of Rivendell.

"I dass carnen?" he asked softly.

Elrond could only nod.

Ed dried his tears after a couple of minutes and stood with shaking legs.

"Nin gwerianneg," he growled at the two.

Hatred and hurt cloaked the words in such a way it became a curse for both Elrond and the old Gandalf.

The former bowed his head in shame. "Goheno nin..." was his only reply.

Ed was bound to be with the Fellowship, now, unable to return to his brother in Mordor. He really felt hate, pure hate, for Gandalf and Elrond, who had once proven themselves to be friends of the alchemist and utter sorrow in the knowledge he would maybe never see his younger brother again because of this journey, damned for ruin.

─────────

The rest of the group arrived but an hour later.

They consisted out of Frodo, the Ring-Barer, Sam, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Boromir, Gandalf himself and… the two other hobbits. They approached the Elven lord and Wizard, as well as the alchemist who stood as far away from them as was possible.

The eyes of the young man were bloodshed and a permanent scowl resided on his face.

"Who were you again?" Ed bluntly asked the two hobbits, who looked up in utter shock.

"My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service."

"Peregrin Took, at your service."

Edward shrugged. "Ed Elric," was all he said in reply.

Aragorn looked at young man with piercing eyes, convinced something to be wrong. But the alchemist did not return the gaze and began staring at the wall behind the Fellowship.

Elrond looked a tad bit unsure at the two hobbits who were to join the party, as they seemed to be more fond of fooling around. He remembered, however, how Gandalf had told him that not even an Elf-lord's power would be able to guarantee success on this mission, and that the loyalty of the two hobbits would count for just as much.

Elrond briefly informed them all of the situation, but left out about Edward's condition, the alchemist never brought it up either.

─────────

After they were dismissed, Legolas, the Elf, pulled Ed aside and away from the meeting-ground. His eyes shone in concern. Edward and the Elf had met before the first council in Rivendell, which had been only yesterday, when the Man of Mordor had only been a little(r) boy.

The alchemist, despite himself, smirked at the Elf. "So, volunteered to be the representative of the Elves for this quest of yours, did you? My, how noble you are."

Legolas gave a small scoff. "Why are you with us? Mustn't you return?"

The Elf was aware of Edward's homely situation, though not in greater detail, but he knew of the youngest Elric, Alphonse, and was confused that Ed had not left yet, as they had had their farewells just this morning.

A flash of anger resided in the Man's eyes. "Apparently not, I suppose."

The Elf, bringing up once again their rumoured superiority of all races in Middle Earth with his actions, leaned forward a bit and asked in a serious voice. "Must I pry?"

Ed shook his head miserably. "No, I guess you shouldn't."

Legolas looked at him knowingly, though it was obvious he was not aware of what had aspired before he had come. "Then I will not, but I will watch your back, Ed. Please, do not think of me as an enemy." He spoke as if he had heard everything that had happened, but the alchemist knew that that was not the case. Insight and instinct was what the Elf displayed, nothing more.

Ed looked away. "I never did. But I might need to reconsider."

The Elf nodded solemnly. "Then may we begin to understand one another anew during our journey together, Son of the Light."

Ed grimaced. "You know I dislike that man."

Legolas snickered. "I am aware."

And he walked away.

Ed looked at the Elf's back and was grateful to know not everyone in this forsaken place had betrayed him.

─────────

The Fellowship gathered at the gate of Rivendell for their departure, two months later, which was way too long of a wait as the alchemist proclaimed every day after their last meeting with Elrond.

Aragorn began a conversation with the young man. "I must once again thank you for re-forging the Broken Sword of Isildur."

Ed smirked. "No biggie," he chirped confidently. "A new master needs a new blade. I never understood the need for tradition. A new sword would have been better, in my opinion. A bigger one," he added with a shimmer of madness in his eyes.

Aragorn smiled with Aldúril, the newly forged legacy of Isildur, at his side, obviously disagreeing with the alchemist's statement but amused by Ed's behaviour nonetheless.

When they were repairing the sword, he and the Elves were busy trying to stop the boy from making it into a horrendous shape which he tried to recreate it into - because he thought it would look 'cool'.

Gimli just appeared to be grumpy as he stood beside the large horse, which looked even comically larger when next to a Dwarf and Legolas was passively ignoring the irritated glances from him as well. Boromir was enjoying himself as he eyed Frodo, with a short sword, apparently called Sting, by his side, and the enthusiastic hobbits, who were cheerful and optimistic about their journey, but Ed could not help but wonder how soon they would break.

Among the large horses, which would not be coming with them for long, the Fellowship was joined by Bill, an old pony that looked like he could carry a massive amount of weight for a very long time.

Gandalf stood outside of the gates, under the shadow of a large tree, deep in thought. The company quickly took their leave after their goodbyes, but Ed glanced behind just once more.

Elrond looked at him and whispered something, but the alchemist turned around and followed after the Fellowship without responding to the Half-Elf.

Ed knew he could not escape the curse that was put upon him, so he had two options. Find someone who could break it, or get this over with as soon as possible. His brows furrowed in determination as he completely ignored Elrond's last words to him.

"Goheno nin..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Intended/ _Very_ rough) Translation: **  
> **Black Speech**  
>  _Skraefa, bolvag rraus ungol..._ = That coward, cursed breed of a spider...  
>  _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._ = One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.  
>  **Sindarin**  
>  _Band, gwaedh buia._ = Prison, oath to serve.  
>  _Leithio nin..._ = Release me...  
>  _I dass carnen?_ = Is it done?  
>  _Nin gwerianneg,_ = You betrayed me,  
>  _Goheno nin..._ = Forgive me...


	2. The Pass of Caradhras and Door of Moria

 

 

Pippin decided to break the silence that was hovering like a coat of fog covered the land early in the morning over the companionship. “So, which route are we going to take?” he asked nervously. Currently, the Fellowship was having a rest, chatting casually at their leisure, near the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Edward just felt awkward with all the men - even though he personally knew Legolas and was on somewhat friendly terms with Aragorn, - so he preferred to keep to himself most of the time. Even so he decided to speak up in order to answer the hobbit.

“We will cross the pass of Caradhras, that way we will hopefully leave the Mountain behind us soon.”

Gimli gazed up to the snowy tops. “This Mountain has served as quite the plot in our history. The rightful home of the Dwarfs and once containing a terrible dragon.”

Ed looked at the Dwarf. “Yeah, your father was in that party, was he not?”

Gimli hummed. Legolas did not move from his spot on one of the highest rock and closed his eyes. “There is a hostile air.”

Ed nearly laughed at the Elf. “I wonder why,” he chuckled.

“But really, climbing a mountain, are we?” asked Pippin, almost sounding like he sighed. He wasn’t complaining - promise, he was not - he just was not looking forward to it.

“Yes, it would seem so,” said Gandalf as he put out his pipe, which he had used to entertain the Fellowship for a while. “Edward thinks we will be too easily spotted if we march around it. He also said it would take too long.”

The Company nodded in agreement, knowing what it would mean if they were seen, or if they were too late.

  
The old man glided in silence to the youngest member of their group and bowed his head in shame. “Will you be alright?” the wizard asked softly to the alchemist, who looked up, his golden eyes piercing the grey ones of the elder. 

In a swift motion the alchemist threw his braid over his shoulder onto his back. “You better stay away from me for a while, Gandalf the Grey. I am not one to seek revenge by nature, but cursed be my blood and burned my body in the fires of Amon Amarth, if I will not see you get the retribution you deserve.” For good measure, Ed was inclined to throw some of his native language at the old man, but swallowed his tongue. No need to bring danger to the people who had nothing to do with his grudge.

Gandalf bowed his head once more and left, honouring the alchemist’s request. Ed noticed how the Dwarf, Gimli, followed the wizard, who went to sit on a rock further up.

Ed was never the one for threats. The only reason he was able to make one just that second ago was because he remembered his commander officer. Colonel Roy Mustang - or Bastard as the young man preferred it - was a man of words, rather than deeds. He was the one who recruited the eldest Elric for the army of the Lord of the Earth. Mustang had thought the boy looked more miserable than any creature he had ever seen, as he had been suffering at his mother’s harsh treatment. Not to mention that having the son of that woman was quite the trophy.

Ed shook his head to rid himself of his reminiscing and instead began to ponder over the upcoming climb. He looked up, disturbed by the loid noise of metal against metal, to see that two of the hobbits had begun a spar against Boromir. The man showed them how to block with a sword and then swung at them so that they could practice. While watching the training, Aragorn gave useful hints to the hobbits, telling them where to place their feet and where to focus on. Ed felt how a small smirk began to form as he looked down on the ‘fight’ that transpired next. Boromir had accidently hurt Pippin and had run up to him in worry, apologising immediately. Both Merry and Pippin, however, would have none of it and tackled the large Man to the ground.

“For the Shire!” they yelled, and “hold him down!” as they wrestled with the laughing Boromir.

Aragorn chuckled and walked over to the three of them. “All right, that would be enough,” Ed heard him say, right before the man was grabbed by his feet and flipped over for him fall on his back. The alchemist began to laugh loudly and pointed at the spectacle in front of him.

“That’s priceless! The all-mighty Strider and Steward-Prince of Gondor defeated by two hobbits!”

Boromir, who had been able to get Merry and Pippin off of him, stood and looked at the young man with a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “Well, why not come down here, Man of Mordor, and we shall have a match of our own?”

Ed jumped up immediately, taking off his coat. His metal arm shining impressively in the sunlight. Boromir, who hadn’t yet seen his arm, or leg, for that matter, looked shocked. He straightened his face, seeming to come to the conclusion that if the alchemist had wanted to talk about it, he already would have.

Ed smirked and raised his arm to clap them together. As the metallic sound of the transmutation faded along with the flashes of light, a newly formed blade had appeared on the alchemist’s right arm.

“Let’s go, oh Prince,” he mocked.

Boromir raised his sword. “Gladly.” And he sprung forward, obviously still holding back a bit.

Edward made him regret that by slapping the sword out of harm’s way and punching his flesh hand in Boromir’s abdomen. The latter stumbled back, but straightened himself immediately after as he leaped forward with another swing, this time going all out.

Ed lost himself in a series of blocking, attacking, dodging, jumping, turning and other aerobatic tricks he had up his sleeves. Boromir was able to keep up well enough until he was kicked down by Ed’s foot hitting him in the head. He grunted as he stood up. The match was over. Edward was panting heavily and bathing in sweat.

“You’re tough,” he breathed out. “But not as tough as my teacher!”

“He must have been terrifying to witness, young man.” Boromir grinned. “And very famous and honoured in your land indeed.”

Ed laughed. “No way! Teacher would beat up anyone that would spread her name further than her own village. She doesn’t want to be found by the army after all.”

Boromir quickly acknowledged the new information as he continued: “But did she not teach you? Are you not in the army of Mordor?”

The man looked shocked as the alchemist began to pale considerably. “She will kill me if she finds out. She may never find out! I will die!” he screeched in terror.

Aragorn laughed, having heard their conversation. “Someone is in trouble,” he said amused.

“You wouldn’t be so carefree if you knew her, Aragorn,” Ed screeched. “I’d introduce you to her just to see you suffer.” He screamed as he began to pull his hair. “Wait! No! That would make her angry with me!”

Boromir started laughing together with Aragorn. “What a special woman she must be, to frighten the ferocious alchemist!”

Edward pouted. “Where did you get the idea I am ‘ferocious’?”

Boromir smirked. “You’re in the military are you not? Surely you must have done something special to have gotten that status at your age.”

Edward’s eyes where hidden behind the shadow of his bangs as he scratched behind his ear. He grinned grimly. “It was nothing ‘special’.”

Before Aragorn could ask any further, or apologize, Ed didn’t know, Boromir had caught on and gave a light-hearted laugh.

“Tell us, Man of Mordor, more of your country! Surely, it is not the barren land we were told it to be.” He gave a friendly pat on the alchemist shoulder, making Edward pout once more, but this time because of their significant difference in height.

“It definitely is barren, though. Around the Lord of the Earth’s Black Gate, that is. Further away there are fertile valleys, there are our villages and cities. Far away from the smell of Orcs and Goblins. It’s generally peaceful, I must say,” Edward murmured. “It sure is a whole lot quieter than those weird Elven cities where they sing day in day out.”

“I heard that,” said Legolas from afar.

“You were supposed to.”

Boromir laughed. “And your superiors in the army? Are there some that would not kill us on sight?”

Ed shrugged. “My direct commander probably wouldn’t. He’s wanted to overthrow the system of leadership in Mordor for quite a while now. He had been to war before, and did not like what he had to do.” It was true that Colonel Mustang had been against the orders, but he followed them nonetheless. It was a soldier’s duty to do what you were told, and Roy Mustang understood that better than Edward did.

“Then there is General Olivier Armstrong, the highest officer of the Black Gate. She would kill you on sight, unless you were in any way useful to her. I doubt you are, though.”

Aragorn nodded. “So if we hoped to escape her wrath, were we to pass the Black Gate eventually, we would have to kill her fast?”

“You would use that strategy if you wanted a quick death, Aragorn,” Ed shivered. “She is just as scary as my teacher. I do not doubt your sword-arm, but I’ve heard enough about General Armstrong to know she would decapitate you before you could even lift your finger. There is a reason the Black Gate is called impenetrable, and that’s definitely partially because of the general’s leadership.”

“So she is one we have to be careful for.” Boromir looked deep in thought, as if already trying to come up with a plan that would work against her.

“Definitely.” Edward agreed.

“Are you two not on good terms, then?” Aragorn asked.

Ed shook his head. “It’s not like we are on bad terms either. I only met her once, when she was in Central Headquarters. When I was introduced to her by her brother, she literally threw him out of the way to judge me on her own. She has no need for others’ input. General Armstrong is firmly against it, in fact. We got along fine, even though she scared me to death, but there is no guarantee she’ll treat me the same if she found out I was a traitor.”

“Right,” sighed Boromir.

And at that moment it was Legolas who yelled out to the companions. What seemed like black birds were flying their way at alarming speed.

The Elf appeared calm, but said in a nervous voice: “Hide.”

The alchemist gladly obliged and jumped in a safe spot that would not be easily noticeable from above. The others did the same, as they waited for the suspicious birds to fly over them and out of sight.

“Spies from Mordor,” said Aragorn. He breathed out. “Or something else.”

"Those birds are tricky." Ed got up. "They look cool though, don't you think?"

“It definitely is a reason for us to be more careful from now on,” Gandalf said. “We must choose another path, I fear the pass of Caradhras may be watched.”

“But I told you, didn’t I?” Ed looked up at the man. “The other ways will take too long, or we will be spotted even easier.”

Gandalf shook his head. “There is another way to take…”

Aragorn spoke up at that. “Never will I take that path,” he said. “Not if my life depended on it.”

The Dwarf coughed. Ed glanced between the men, wondering what was going on. He decided against inquiring for the sake of keeping the peace.

“So climbing the mountain it is,” said Legolas in a monotone voice. He looked at the alchemist. “Will the cold be all right?” he asked with slight concern.

“Oh, right,” Edward winced, he had forgotten about that. “The climb shouldn’t take long enough for me to frostbite. But I did switch to northern automail in Rivendell just in case.”

The Elf nodded at that.

“So we stick to the plan,” Frodo spoke up, looking for confirmation.

“Yes,” said Aragorn. “And it’s best if we leave as soon as possible, preferably now, even. Everyone, pack your belongings.”

The men got ready and steadily began their climb. Gimli and Edward were exchanging jokes and complains about ‘all those giants’, even when the snow began to gradually fall and slowed down their progress a bit.

Ed felt no pain from his metal limbs and sighed, relieved.

 

 

They had been climbing for a while now and Ed kicked the frozen ground in annoyance. Slowly, more and more snow began to pile on the rocks. Ed never admitted it, acting like the stubborn teen he was always reminded of being, but with his heavy limbs he was having a lot of trouble. Sure, they didn’t cause frostbite, but they still were way too cold against his flesh for comfort. Not to mention that his leg especially dragged him down.

No one seemed to pay attention to that, however, as they all were all struggling on their own. Except for the bloody Elf, Ed thought as he threw a resentful glare to Legolas, who seemed to just walk over the accursed snow. Damned mystical creatures and their disregard for physics.

After a couple hours of panting and cursing under their breaths, the men noticed how the sound of moving snow began to grow louder. Ed gasped, inaudible over the storm. Cursing in his mind, he let out a scream: “there are boulders tumbling down! We have got to take shelter- argh!” It was right then when the snow under his feet started gliding away. Losing his footing, he fell to his knees with a startled scream. “Damn,” he cursed.

Immediately, Legolas was right there to help the alchemist back on his feet. He looked worryingly down the teenager, undoubtedly thinking about his metal leg.

Aragorn held his arms over his eyes to block the flakes. “We must turn back! We will get nowhere in this.”

Boromir swatted around him for a bit. “How did this storm get so bad so quick?” He looked behind him, where the men were able to shield the hobbits somewhat. “Everyone all right back here?”

“I am,” Sam replied. “But master Frodo is not!”

“Sam!” Ed knew it was Frodo who said that, but in the storm he would have never guessed that based on hearing alone. “I am fine as well, do not worry.”

“Well, I am worried all right.” Boromir muttered, but only Ed heard that.

It was Gandalf who made the decision to turn back for now, in the end. It did not take them too long at all, to go back the way they came from. It was as if the snow was pushing them back off the mountain. And then, when they apparently had retreated far enough, the snow stopped.

”Well what do you know?” Gimli grumbled. He looked back up the tracks of the mountain. “It seems like Caradhras itself does not want us to pass.” He frowned, staring intently at Gandalf. "Is it possible for us to be stopped deliberately like this?"

Gandalf looked down and was quiet for a moment. "Saruman, perhaps?"

Ed really couldn't help it and let out a snicker. “He’s already become a problem."

They all sat down to shelter. The hobbits were asking questions to Gandalf, both Boromir and Aragorn listening intently. Whereas Legolas and Gimli surrounded the alchemist, who ended up tuning everyone out, uncomfortably rubbing his leg on the place where metal met flesh. Even though he did not get frostbite, it did hurt. Bad. But Ed did not survive years in Sauron’s service without being able to endure some set-backs.

“Are you all right, Ed?”

"Obviously. Don’t worry too much.” Ed looked up at Gimli and raised his brows. “What are you looking at?”

“Your leg and arm are both metal, then? I must say that it intrigues me.” Gimli shrugged, as if a half-apology for his staring.

Ed nodded. “Well, yeah. We call them automail.” He let go of his leg and raised his arm instead. “They are directly connected to our nerves. They work like normal limbs, with the limitations of malfunctions, of course.

Gimli looked at the alchemist’s arm with a practiced gaze. “I understand, somewhat. But of course, it has advantages, no? I imagine blows are significantly tougher.”

”Yeah.”

Gimli’s eyes shone. “My people are miners and smiths by trade, mostly. Our metal works are rivaled by none.” He raised his fist. “In my homeland, we do have something similar, I suppose. We call it Ascûdgamln.” Pointing to his knuckles he began explaining. “Those are removable iron weapons we screw into our knuckles.”

Ed’s eyes widened. “Sounds like that hurts."

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have them.” Gimli lowered his hand. “The surgery is tricky. There is a chance you lose the ability to move your hand at all. But once you have them, there are no disadvantages. Like I said, they’re removable, so that – excluding the iron tunnels in the knuckles themselves – you won’t see it. They don’t get in the way and are very useful in battle.”

The alchemist nodded. “I understand. My friend would probably love to know how to create them. Ah, she is my mechanic. Winry. She made my arm and leg.”

“A bright lady,” said Gimli. “But Ascûdgamln are close to useless for any race besides the Dwarves. The knuckles of Men are just too fragile, it would not work. Let alone Elves,” he threw a hateful glare at Legolas, who coldly ignored Gimli. “Their hands themselves would cry out and leap away before the surgery would even be initiated.”

“Ah, is that so?” Ed switched his gaze between the seething two men, not really wanting to get involved. “Sounds good…”

Gandalf stood from where he had been sitting quietly. He spoke solemnly. “It seems we’ve only got one option.” He did not seem too pleased to suggest it, but seemed resolute it was the right call. Aragorn was all too aware of what he was going to say and growled in the back of his throat.

Gandalf seemingly ignored him. "We need to go through the Mines of Moria."

From the corner Legolas allowed himself the first shiver since the presence of snow. Ed snorted. "The hell is in the Mines that made it we couldn't go there in the first place?"

Aragorn looked skeptical. "You don't know?"

Ed looked genuinely surprised. “I am supposed to?"

Aragorn just shook his head, the ghost of an amused smirk on his lips. Gimli spoke up: "The Mines are the pride of my people. I have been suggesting this route since we stopped before we climbed the mountain."

"I declined it for a reason primarily." Gandalf glanced outside the make-shift shelter, a solemn look on his face. "But, I reckon we might not be offered any other choice."

Ed scratched his nose. "Fishy."

Legolas nodded. "I am loathe to approach the place. It is evil." And Ed wasn't shocked to see Aragorn agree, but he _was_ surprised to see him so openly agree with an Elf of all people. Now, Ed knew that - in Mordor - Elves weren't loved, but he supposed they had a warmer bond with Men outside of Morder.

Gimli appeared pleased by the turn of events. "Moria was once one of the greatest places in the realm of the Dwarves. After such a long time, I wish to greet our king Balin whilst there. I am certain he will give us a warm welcome."

Aragorn visibly gave up, his posture faltering. "We must all be wary when we go. With greatest sincerity, I wish to press this advice on Gandalf especially."

Legolas made a face, yet remained mindful to remain as graceful as Elves can be. Everyone, once more, made themselves ready for a rest until the crack of dawn.

Ed jumped up a higher rock and sat down. If there was anyone he trusted in this place, it'd be the damn Elf. Pathetic, he knew it.

From his vantage point he looked down upon the group, judging the Elf in particular. A prince Legolas may be, but he had little exceptional skills aside his archery, which Ed was told was superior to other Elves.  
  
Nothing that would be of use to Ed, personally.  
  
The alchemist has been playing nice. He thought he ought to have deserved a raise were this to have been his actual job. He felt awful, and he had found himself lashing out at others here and there. Everyone was quick to accept his sudden dislike for the Wizard, despite their previous perceived closeness, as well as his cranky behaviour. None of them seemed explicitly fond of the idea of screening Ed, aside from his relations to Mordor and her armies. Not even Legolas had bothered to inquire about the feud between the Wizard and the alchemist.

Ed wasn’t going to let this stand. None of this. No matter how attached he got to these men, he wouldn’t allow himself to care for their mission anymore. End of the world be damned. As a valuable asset to the Lord of Mordor he was ascertained a safe haven for himself as well as his brother, eventually. Surely, he’d be punished for this ‘detour’ of sorts, but Ed knew he was fully capable of letting others take his fall. Just this once, could he not be selfish? Just this once he wanted to place his brother above all else. Even above Middle Earth.

Somewhere along his trail of thought he must have dozed off, as we was awoken by Legolas - which appeared to him - only a few minutes later. It was still dark out.

“I hear wolves.”

 “Wolves are nothing to be frightened off,” the alchemist stretched his back. “They are notifying one another that there are strange-smelling creatures nearby.”

Aragorn nodded. “They shouldn’t attack.”

Ed refused to hide the groan at that. “He jinxed us. Aragorn jinxed us all. The wolves will attack and we will all die.”

The Man appeared amused, if only for a short while. “Superstitious, aren’t we?”

“Cease that,” the alchemist cried. “I’ve seen you do it before, the lot of you. Nothing is going to be easy, not even wolves.”

“Wolves are an easy feat to deal with?” Gimli grinned.

“Fire is all you need.”

Gandalf readied his staff. “We will need it.”

Sure enough, a lone wolf appeared behind a tree, itching forward, and two more baring their teeth right behind it.

“Then light the tree on fire already, asshole.”

Without a rebuttal the Wizard did as he was told, but the wolves refused to back down and readied themselves for an attack.

“I blame Aragorn,” Ed said, before jumping up, using alchemy to create his blade. Next to him, Aragorn and Boromir unsheathed their swords, Gimli readied his axe and Legolas grabbed a handful of arrows, placing one on his bow. The hobbits ran off and hid in close proximity, throwing stones at the wolves to distract them.

The fight was relatively short and the Fellowship got off with minor scratches and bruises. All of the wolves were dead.

“Unbelievable,” Ed shook his head. He pointed to the wolf that lay pierced by a spear beneath him. “This one fought until it bled out. That is not normal behaviour.”

Aragorn agreed. Boromir cleaned his sword, a calculating look in his eyes. “You are right; we must leave. This place is out to get us and I will mourn any other creatures I needlessly kill.”

The hobbits nodded, Pippin spared a glance to the rock still in his hand, dropping it.

And so the Fellowship left the valley the moment a bit of light shone through the trees and headed for the western Door of Moria.

 

 

Ed glared at the mount walking with them, appearing more wearied by the hour. “Your tiny horse is tired.”

Merry looked back. “Bill doesn’t look so good,” he agreed.  

Frodo grinned at the alchemist. The two had had barely any conversations over their time in the group. “Did you call Bill a ‘tiny horse’?”

Ed was puzzled. “That’s what it is?”

“You do realize ponies exist, right?” Boromir pointed out.

Ed’s eyes widened, looking with awe at Bill. “That is a pony?”

Frodo, to the alchemist’s horror, began to laugh. “Have you never seen a pony before?”

Ed flushed in embarrassment. “I haven’t! That is not so strange, is it?”

“With all the travelling you do? It is,” Legolas smiled kindly. That bloody Elf. “Do you not have ponies where you are from?”

“They can’t be in any way better than a proper horse,” Ed hissed. “Who even use them?”

“Hobbits,” Boromir amended, a mischievous tone in his voice, fully prepared to tease the teenager. “Figured you would, too.”

The alchemist seethed. “Who are you calling a tiny bug that escapes the wrath of a shoe because he's so small that he fits in the grooves and can't get squashed?”

“Bless him.” Legolas gracefully left, hiding a snicker so unlike his perceived character.

The Fellowship continued their journey after having a quick look at the pony, coming to the conclusion he just needed to rest soon. Wisely they avoided annoying Ed any further, but the memory of an angry midget was a fond one.

It didn’t take them very long until they reached the Door of Moria. Gandalf told the men to wait by the black lake for a while as he himself pondered over how to open the portal, as it was sealed with an ancient magic.

They decided to let the pony return to Rivendell, as it would be unable to pass through the Mines no matter how resilient it was. Sam said his good-byes but was visibly irked he had to part ways with Bill. Ed couldn’t say he could relate to the sentiment. The alchemist sat down once more with the two Men, who seemed to have become akin to friends during the travels.

Boromir greeted him with a grand smile. “Do not think I was going to let you be without any more stories of your country! Before I met you I was under the impression there were no Men in those forsaken lands. Quench my curiosity!” Aragorn seemed to be paying close attention but said nothing.

Ed sighed. “What do you want to know?”

Boromir grinned. “Your language?”

The alchemist shrugged. “Black Speech as well as Adûni, or Sôval Phârë. We use Adûni most of the time, Black Speech is for the higher-ups and formal gatherings.”

Aragorn titled his head. “Is it not the unified language of any servants of Sauron? Would it not be required to speak it at all times for Men.”

Ed shrugged. “It is a complicated language, composed with many rules and etiquette. It’s easier to just stick to the common tongue for simplicity’s sake. The closer you get to major cities and strongholds - like Dol Guldur - the more Black Speech you’ll hear. Ah, but it _is_ punishable to speak anything but Black Speech in Gorgoroth.”

Boromir stretched his legs over some rocks. “Orkish?”

The alchemist shivered. “Vile language. I’m not one to be formal but Orcs take to a whole new level. Orkish is a mixture of their own tongue and Black Speech. I mentioned how ceremonial Black Speech is: imagine the horror of the higher-ups to hear it butchered. They do it to show loyalty to the Lord of the Earth, but it’s just gross to listen to. My commanding officer refuses to keep them in close proximity because of it.”

Boromir couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the sight of an uncomfortable Ed, as if the mere mention of the language offended him. “Your commanding officer, tell us of him.”

Ed grinned maliciously. “The Grand Colonel Bastard. Bastard, for short.”

“You do not get along?” Aragorn changed his seating, beginning to feel sore.  

The alchemist sighed and thought that over. Did he and Mustang get along? “He has sent me on a lot of dangerous missions,” he began. Boromir frowned, but Ed didn’t understand why. “Though, I guess I did ask for it. He’s a Bastard, through and through, but I guess I kind respect him," he admitted reluctantly. "Never tell him.”

“Is he known throughout Middle Earth?”

Ed cringed on his own spot. “Roy Mustang is known as the Flame Alchemist in Mordor. You will have heard of him as Ghâshgûl.”

Boromir cursed under his breath. “Tharbad.”

“And Ishval in Mordor,” Ed amended. “Ishval was the last free country in Mordor, before it became a province after its destruction.”

Aragorn fidgeted his fingers, undoubtedly having either heard of or seen the ruins of Tharbad. “I have problems seeing him as a respectable man.”

“I know,” Ed looked tired. “I am not asking you to.”

Boromir looked miserable. “To think he is but a Man.”

“But a Man indeed. An alchemist, too.”

“Is that why he was able to cause such horrors.”

Ed nodded. “He controls flames with a snap of his fingers.” To lighten the mood he gave a half-grin. “But I told you: he’d be fine with betraying current authority. Not to mention, the Bastard is useless in the rain. It’s his lieutenant you ought to worry about.”

Needless to say it didn’t work. Ever the mediator, Aragorn tapped his foot, catching on. “Who was the one with the highest rank you have ever gotten in contact with? Could you tell us anything of them?”

Ed grinned widely. It was always this part he enjoyed, when Ed was at the main stronghold he and some officers were carefree enough to relinquish their professional demeanour for a short while. Likely because to them, he was still just a young man and wouldn’t sell them out. “With the Lord of Mordor’s Eye and Mouth!” Ed cried out in glee.

A silence befell between the three. The two men were visibly uncomfortable, Boromir gripping the handle of his sword. The air around them felt thick and terribly awkward, in every sense of the word. The alchemist’s smile faltered, confused. “It’s a joke.”

Aragorn baffled an insulted sound. “ _That_ was a joke?”

Ed couldn’t remember a time he ever felt this embarrassed. “I suppose it’s only known in Mordor then?”

Boromir attempted a laugh, but it sounded like a sob. “You have a sense of humour over there?”

The alchemist flustered and tried to hide into himself. “Forget it. Please, forget it.”

The two didn’t have the time to laugh at him - taking away some of the density of the previous revelation - for long.

“Mr. Frodo!”

The men were startled, looking around to the source of the scream.

“You have got to me shitting me!” Ed yelled out as he sprinted, tripping haphazardly because of his previous sitting position.

A tentacle creature had emerged slightly from the dark lake, holding tightly onto Frodo, who was trying frantically to get free. The brave hobbits were hacking away at some appendages, but it did not seem to bother the creature in its desire to drag Frodo to the depths.

“The Door has opened. Everyone through, now!” Gandalf charged forward, sending a beam of light through the murky waters, somehow disrupting the creature, which caused it to drop the Ring-bearer. The Company hurried over to the Door of Moria, with Ed creating walls to slow the tentacles down. The creature closed the Door after the group had entered with its frantic limbs, burying its attackers away from itself.

At the same time engulfing each and every representative of the Fellowship in the concentrated darkness of the Mines of Moria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translation:**  
>  **Black Speech**  
>  _Ghâshgûl_ = Fire Wraith  
> 


End file.
